12-15-2009, 04:22 PM
This is my favorite story about witnessing to my boss.
I was working an office job in Pensacola, and my immediate superior was a tough ex-Marine who, while being a very nice man and a great boss, was about as profane and bawdy as they come. We worked closely together, and he knew my stand. (Everyone knew my stand; I had a Bible on my desk, one of Ruckman's paintings on my bulletin board, and everyone knew I had just graduated from PBI; in fact, a couple of the black secretaries had come to my graduation! Since I was in a supervisory position, and the big boss, the Executive Director, was a Christian, I could get away with this.) Anyway, Gene (the Marine) and I had many conversations about the Lord; in fact, when he started having marital problems, he tearfully called me one night and asked me to meet him at a bar. I did: I sat and drank a Coke while he poured out his heart. But he could never quite take that final step.
One day, my four year old son was in my office; my wife had come to pick me up at work, and Samuel was with her. I had some tracts in my desk, and Samuel got one out, walked into Gene's office (which was adjacent to mine), and smilingly handed it to him. Gene thanked him profusely; as I say, he was a nice guy.
Within a week or so, he was saved.
When I left this job to go start a church, they threw a going-away party for me, and some of the people stood up to talk about how much they'd miss me, etc. When Gene's turn came, he thanked me for my work, and then this tough, profane Marine said, with tears in his eyes, "And I'd also like to thank William, and his son Samuel, for their part in my conversion to Christ."
The crowd was stunned to hear this from "Gene the Marine," but I doubt that they forgot it very soon.
I was working an office job in Pensacola, and my immediate superior was a tough ex-Marine who, while being a very nice man and a great boss, was about as profane and bawdy as they come. We worked closely together, and he knew my stand. (Everyone knew my stand; I had a Bible on my desk, one of Ruckman's paintings on my bulletin board, and everyone knew I had just graduated from PBI; in fact, a couple of the black secretaries had come to my graduation! Since I was in a supervisory position, and the big boss, the Executive Director, was a Christian, I could get away with this.) Anyway, Gene (the Marine) and I had many conversations about the Lord; in fact, when he started having marital problems, he tearfully called me one night and asked me to meet him at a bar. I did: I sat and drank a Coke while he poured out his heart. But he could never quite take that final step.
One day, my four year old son was in my office; my wife had come to pick me up at work, and Samuel was with her. I had some tracts in my desk, and Samuel got one out, walked into Gene's office (which was adjacent to mine), and smilingly handed it to him. Gene thanked him profusely; as I say, he was a nice guy.
Within a week or so, he was saved.
When I left this job to go start a church, they threw a going-away party for me, and some of the people stood up to talk about how much they'd miss me, etc. When Gene's turn came, he thanked me for my work, and then this tough, profane Marine said, with tears in his eyes, "And I'd also like to thank William, and his son Samuel, for their part in my conversion to Christ."
The crowd was stunned to hear this from "Gene the Marine," but I doubt that they forgot it very soon.